Traveling back to 1977

Chapter 643 demonstration

Chen Fan took a couple of puffs of his cigarette, looking rather listless. "Uncle He, if you ask me, the correspondence center really should be handed over."

Now that all the procedures are clear, we just need to follow them step by step and recruit students once a year to maintain the business smoothly. Whether I'm there or not, it's all the same, isn't it?

He Qingsheng clicked his tongue and looked at him, saying, "It really is different."

Before Chen Fan could ask a question, he leaned forward and continued, "Think about it, the correspondence center can generate two or three hundred thousand yuan in revenue a year. What a lucrative opportunity that is! It's only because you look down on it that you would be envious of those office workers who don't engage in creative work."

You created this center from scratch, and you hold the position of director. Even if they are envious, they can only watch helplessly, and no one dares to take it away.

But if you just quit, believe me, a few qualified people who want to take over will beat the crap out of them.

He paused for a moment, then offered her a cigarette and said earnestly, "I understand your difficulties, but you also need to be considerate. Our Jiangnan branch has only just stabilized, and we absolutely cannot afford to cause any chaos at this time. Otherwise, what will our superiors think of us?"

What the higher-ups think is not important. The main thing is that those people all have powerful backers. If they start fighting each other, I will definitely become the target. I will be annoyed to death. Most importantly, no matter who I support, I will offend others.

Although the Writers' Association is a self-contained system within the arts and literature system, and I am not afraid of them, trouble is always better avoided than avoided. Why provoke them if you can avoid it?
Chen Fan understood what he meant when he heard him say something about breaking one's brain.

This is indeed a difficult matter to handle, but we can't let him occupy it forever; he's thinking of returning to his hometown to retire.

He switched to a cigarette, put it in his mouth, lit it by pressing the cigarette butt against the cigarette butt, and then stubbed it out in the ashtray. He looked at He Qingsheng and asked, "When can I throw it out?"

He Qingsheng chuckled twice, "Next year, next year I will definitely arrange a suitable person to take over, and I guarantee that you won't be put in a difficult position."

If we give them more time, we'll be able to see who has contributed more and who has worked harder. Then we can consider both their contributions and their efforts, and promote whoever is capable. Our superiors will have nothing to say about that.

He lit a new cigarette, exhaled a puff of smoke, and smiled at Chen Fan, "If you ask me, since Xiao Bian is doing your job now, you get an extra allowance every month. I know you're not short of money, but why not take what's rightfully yours? Isn't that right?"

Chen Fan shook his head and said seriously, "What's the main thing? Someone as conscientious and responsible as me, even if I only have a title without real power, will always keep the work in mind. Ah... this is my work attitude and my principle as a person... Hey, Uncle He, what's wrong with you?"

He Qingsheng suppressed his discomfort, waved his hand while panting, and said, "No, it's nothing. I was just shocked by your 'serious and responsible' attitude."

Chen Fan: "Right. So, both for public and private reasons, we should arrange for a suitable person to take over as soon as possible. It's good for everyone."

He Qingsheng nodded without thinking, "Okay, okay, okay, we'll arrange this when the council is elected early next year."

Seeing that there was a definite time, Chen Fan didn't say anything more. He stood up, picked up a cigarette from the table, took one out, and threw it in front of He Qingsheng. "Since it's none of my business, I'll be leaving."

He Qingsheng was about to wave him away when he suddenly paused, changing his gesture to a beckoning motion. "Wait, I just remembered, there's something I really need your help with."

Chen Fan glanced back at him, then sat back down in his chair. "I knew it! How could this company possibly do without me? Tell me, what is it? I'll do whatever I can."

The implication is that you shouldn't mention things you can't do.

He Qingsheng looked speechless, took a puff of his cigarette, and said, "Regarding that matter you mentioned last time, the international writing program, we've already made contact with them."

Somewhat surprisingly, the founder of this international cultural exchange project is actually Chinese.

Chen Fan, with a cigarette butt in his mouth, said, "Yeah, Nie Hualing, you don't know her?"

He Qingsheng looked at him in surprise, "You knew beforehand?"

Chen Fan shrugged. "I already said I saw it in an old magazine, so it must have the names of relevant people. But I only remember her; the other one is her husband, whose name I don't remember."

He Qingsheng said, "Her husband's name is Paul Engle, an American poet, and this project was founded by the couple."

The main approach is to first secure a sponsorship, and then, depending on the amount of funding, invite a certain number of writers from developing countries to study and exchange ideas in the United States, once a year for approximately three months each time.

After he finished speaking, he tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his expression somewhat hesitant. "Because it mainly targets developing countries, each of our exchange meetings has many authors from different countries..."

He paused here, unsure how to continue, and silently lit a cigarette.

Chen Fan clicked his tongue, looked at him and chuckled softly, "There are just a lot of 'problem' people."

He Qingsheng looked up at him, "You know?"

Chen Fan silently recalled an interview with Wang Anyi that he had read before his time travel, and said, "Poland, East Germany, West Germany, the Philippines, Indonesia, India... there are many developing countries in the world. Although Germany is a developed country, its writers are often invited to participate due to its special circumstances."

I understand your concerns. These countries each have their own problems, especially writers—they're emotional and prone to outbursts. I worry that if our people go there, they might be influenced by them.

After saying this, Chen Fan took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled a long plume of smoke, and looked at He Qingsheng, who was frowning in thought, and said, "Everyone has problems, right? Don't our writers have problems? Everyone seems so quiet today, but who knows what they're really thinking? Are they really so unconcerned about everything that happened in the past?"
I think it's good to let them go out and see the world. The world is big, there are many countries, and everyone has their flaws.
Going out to see how other people are doing and learning more about the outside world isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Instead, it's bad to keep things bottled up at home, keeping your feelings inside, and then intentionally or unintentionally writing down your resentment, or waiting for a trigger to appear so you can vent your anger a hundredfold or a thousandfold, regardless of the facts.

Hearing this, He Qingsheng frowned and stared intently at him. "You think this situation will occur?"

Chen Fan shrugged. "This isn't a matter of my opinion, but rather the objective law of how things develop. Just wait and see; with just a small opening and the push of someone with ulterior motives, it could very well become a wave of catharsis."

He took a drag of his cigarette, sighed, and said, "So many years of accumulation, how can it be so easily wiped away?"

He Qingsheng clicked his tongue, remained silent for a while, and then looked at him and whispered, "Don't talk nonsense outside."

Chen Fan smiled and said, "Unless you have recorded it, I will not admit to anything."

He then leaned back, put a cigarette in his mouth, put his hands in his pockets, and chuckled, "To put it another way, there's really nothing wrong with saying this. Who can say anything about me?!"

He Qingsheng pointed at him helplessly, "You're just young and impetuous after all. Just don't say things like that again."

Chen Fan shrugged, tossed away his cigarette butt, and said, "You raised this question first, which is why I'm saying this. Since we're on the topic, I'll add one more thing: if you decide to cooperate with the 'International Writing Program,' you need to consider maintaining a firm stance. Especially the team leader; this person not only needs to have a firm stance themselves, but also needs to be good at understanding and guiding others, so that we can ensure a good number of people go and return, and prevent any major incidents."

He Qingsheng took a deep breath and tapped his fingers on the table arrhythmically.

After a long while, he finally raised his head and said, "Before, I only knew a little bit about it, but after hearing so much from you today, I realize how complicated things are..."

Chen Fan waved his hand, interrupting him, and smiled at him, "What's complicated isn't the situation, it's the people!"

Looking into Chen Fan's eyes, He Qingsheng had a sudden realization: "So 'people' are the core, and projects are just a formality."

Chen Fan smiled and said, "I see you seem a little hesitant. It's okay, you can discuss it with Mr. Ba and Mr. Mao later. My opinion is that we will eventually have to go out into the world. Otherwise, the General Association would not have set up the External Liaison Department. The establishment of the External Liaison Department is a strong signal from the literary and art circles."

Whenever there is external communication, there will inevitably be clashes of ideas and cultural impacts. If we do not take the first step out of fear, we will always remain stagnant and unable to connect with the outside world.

When the higher authorities actually open the country's doors, the impact will be even more intense.

He took out a cigarette, lit it, put it in his mouth, stood up, and said, "You guys discuss it first. If you need me to step in, just let me know."

Just as he was about to leave, he turned back and said, "By the way, let me state first that I am not going abroad."

He Qingsheng was pondering what he had said when he heard this, and he was taken aback. He looked up at him and asked, "Why? I heard from someone last time that Professor Xu was planning to recommend you to study abroad, but you refused. Why do you seem so averse to going abroad?"

Chen Fan chuckled and said, "It's not that I'm against it, it's just that I'm afraid of dying."

He raised his hand and gestured, “Weapons are rampant in the United States, and due to the lingering influence of Macdonaldism from the early 50s, there are still many white people who launch unprovoked attacks against Asians today.”

As the saying goes, a wise man doesn't stand under a crumbling wall. Even if the probability is low, I don't want to run out and suffer, after all, I'm a gentleman.

After saying that, he waved his hand and said, "I'm leaving."

He Qingsheng watched him leave with a dark expression, and only after closing the door from the outside could he chuckle out loud, "That kid, he never tells the truth."

He paused for a moment, then reached out and touched the table. "Hey, where are my cigarettes?"

He opened the drawer, but it wasn't there. Then he looked up at the front door. "Could it have been stolen again?"

He then sighed deeply, picked up the phone, dialed an internal number, and said, "Xiao Xu, call Lao Tan over here. Oh, and bring me a pack of cigarettes."

After hanging up the phone, I silently pondered how to communicate this matter with the headquarters.

……

Chen Fan walked briskly downstairs, got into his car, and drove off. Before long, he entered the university campus.

Today is Saturday, and classes are still in session at school. Chen Fan drove his car to the front of the Chinese Department teaching building, got out of the car, opened the trunk, picked up two boxes, and went inside.

A short while later, I arrived at Professor Xu's office, peeked inside, and as usual, only Professor Xu was there. I straightened up and chuckled, "Professor, are you preparing your lesson?"

Professor Xu looked up, casually closed his lecture notes, and said irritably, "I told you to come in once a month, how long has it been?"

Chen Fan carried the cardboard box in, put it on the ground, pulled out a chair and sat opposite Old Xu, took out a teacup and took a sip of tea, pretending to be tired and catching his breath, "Teacher, this time the situation is really special, you can't blame me."

Professor Xu glanced at the two cardboard boxes, then turned to look at him. "Just because of this?"

Before Chen Fan could speak, he continued, "It's just a computer. Professor Huang from the Computer Science Department managed to get one last time. Was that the one you brought back? What, is this computer different from the one last time?"

Chen Fan chuckled, leaned forward, and said mysteriously, "Teacher, I'm not bragging, but this computer is really different."

Professor Xu was slightly taken aback, but quickly recovered, picked up her teacup, took a sip, and without looking at him, said softly, "Then tell me, what's different?"

Chen Fan: "The last computer could only use English, but this computer can use Chinese."

Professor Xu suddenly looked up, his brows furrowing slightly. "It can use Chinese? You mean, this computer can type Chinese?"

Although he studied traditional Chinese culture, he was quite familiar with Chinese typewriters.

Back in the day, every time a Chinese-language printer was introduced, it caused a sensation in literary circles.

As a writer, I also have a patriotic heart and hope to have a Chinese typewriter so that I can easily type an article just like foreigners.

However, for many years, to this day, all Chinese typewriters are extremely cumbersome, and mechanical typewriters are prone to malfunction, so they have never been widely used.

Aside from professional typists in special units who can use Chinese typewriters, what other writer uses a Chinese typewriter to write?
I believe my youngest disciple understands this principle.

But seeing his smug look now, Old Xu also became suspicious.

Upon hearing his words, Chen Fan immediately nodded and smiled, "That's right, it can directly type Chinese, and just like an English computer, you can modify, delete, and save while typing."

To put it more bluntly, anything that can be done with English documents, this computer can do too.

Upon hearing this, Old Xu's spirits lifted. "Really?"

Chen Fan didn't say much, and directly opened the box. At the same time, he smiled at Old Xu and said, "I'll open it and show you once, then you'll understand."

(End of this chapter)